#sick stephen strange | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ | ꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

Stephen Strange x Surgeon!Reader

summary: YN had been struggling with a cold for as long as she could remember – well, for a week. But being her restless and (kinda) workaholic self, this minor cold morphed into something that benched her definitively. And who could be a better caretaker than her loving boyfriend, who happens to be a doctor himself?

word count: 7.3k

warnings: a tiny bit drama, medical stuff, surgery stuff, mentions of sick people, surgery, mentions of blood, reader has pneumonia, passing out, hospital environment, Stephen kinda freaks out because he is always thinking the worst, protective!Stephen, soft!Stephen (but only for reader), slight suggestive bits, so much fluff, talk about future, short mentions of the Avengers

author’s note: I had so much fun writing this request! Finally something where I could pour my Grey’s Anatomy knowledge into :D I really hope you like the direction in which this one went @colewritess :3 I needed some angsty drama in my life, so I put that in :x

Waking up in the middle of the night was something very common in the Strange-LN household ever since the two doctors had acquired their white coats and had graduated with honors. Usually, YN was the first one to wake up to the vibration of her pager, followed by the usual soft ring of her phone because one of her interns would update her on the incoming case beforehand. Stephen would follow close behind, throwing one arm lazily over her waist at first to nuzzle his face back into the warmth of her neck - it helped him to shrug the deep slumber off his hardworking mind - before the blanket would get thrown away to relieve the world of the sadness of not seeing his toned, utterly gorgeous body.

YN was nothing but an admiring girlfriend.

But this early morning, almost still the depth of the night, things were differently: Instead of hearing the tired voice of his girlfriend softly speaking into the phone and waking him up with that, so he could check his already vibrating pager too, the only sounds heard in the dark bedroom was YN's shallow breath and the never-ending sounds of both pagers and her almost barely ringing phone. Confusion settled into the doctor, even more so after he had propped himself up on one of his arms, letting the mattress dip in the process of it, and still, YN did not start to stir even slightly. But before he could process her strange behavior, he had to accept the call.

"Yes?"

He never was a fan of greetings, especially not in the face of interns - and he kind of enjoyed messing around with those tiny ducklings, barely out of their mother's homes, who still had to learn a lot. Even now, Stephen could almost grab the perplexity radiating through his girlfriend's phone at the sound of his voice.

"Uhm... This is Doctor LN's number. You are not Doctor LN," a hesitant voice started to speak, and Stephen had to roll his eyes in amusement before they settled atop the still sleeping form of the woman he not only shared this bed with on a few occasions. "A wonder how you earned that place in Harvard, Jones," the Strange scoffed while he reached out for his bedside lamp to let the soft light invade the dark bedroom, only illuminated by the streetlights and passing cars outside the window front. Blinking against the new light source, he took a closer look at the gorgeous woman next to him, his eyebrows starting to furrow at the sight of her puffy eyes, the red nose resembling one of the stuffed Rudolphs they had seen only a week ago while doing their annual Christmas shopping, and not to mention her breathing of which he obviously wasn't a huge fan. "Hold on a second..." The seemingly simpleminded intern mumbled before he clearly put the phone a few inches away from his face to shout over the entire floor, "You were right, Macy! Doctor LN and Strange are a thing!" And then, the voice returned, louder now.

This day hadn't even begun, and Stephen wanted to strangle the first one already.

"I am sorry, sir. The coffee still has to kick in, I guess... Nevermind. There is a GSW incoming: a bullet in his brain and several in his thorax. He was stable, so we decided to do a CT. I'll send the images to Doctor LN's tablet as soon as I have them." At least Jones wasn't a total incompetent fool, so Stephen didn't have to rip his head off entirely. "Send them to mine; she will look at them on our way to the hospital. Don't let him die because your coffee addiction gets in the way of saving lives." And with that, he ended the call, and the phone landed on his pillow before Stephen slowly scooted closer to the sleeping woman, and now he finally had room for his over-boarding worries etching themselves into his mind.

Gently, his hand caressed her cheek before his flat palm made contact with her forehead to feel her temperature. Maybe slightly raised, Stephen thought before bending down and pressing whisper of kisses all over her face. Now, she seemed to wake up - scrunching her nose, twisting her lips, and the coughs started almost immediately. They were his constant companion as soon as he stepped into the apartment ever since they began to occur one and a half weeks ago, and by now, the cold should've calmed down. Instead, it seemed worse than yesterday. His idea to grab dinner on their way home wasn't probably his best idea of the week, but YN had seemed fine enough to agree.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Stephen mumbled with his lips pressed against her cheek, and YN slowly turned her head with a groan. "What time is it?" Even her voice sounded horrible. "Something around three. There is a GSW coming in, but you can stay home if you like. I'm handling it." The next cough made the man almost flinch, and he was sure he felt the aching pain in his lungs and throat as bad as YN obviously did, judging by her scrunched-up face and her hand that had settled atop her burning throat. She looked back at him and cocked an eyebrow. "Thorax?"

He nodded while her eyebrow wandered even further up. "Who is in charge this night? Forgot to check before we headed out." Stephen didn't have to think twice.

"Hamilton."

"And you want me to stay home when this imbecile of a cardiothoracic surgeon is unsupervised in my department? Your sense of humor definitely wasn't the thing I found so charming, that's for sure..."

She had already started to climb out of the comforting warmth of their shared bed, and instantly YN missed its soft embrace.

"Touché," the man scoffed while following her into the now brightly lit bathroom and watched her from the doorframe, where he leaned with his arms crossed over his chest. She seemed not doing all too well, but at least she could stand on both feet, so he talked himself into believing that everything would be just fine, even though if it meant for her standing in the OR for at least five hours. "You will drive back home after the surgery is done, do you understand me? No post-op check-up, no sneaking around me to dodge the inevitable, no rounds this morning, and no teaching lab with your little ducklings." Her, by the toothbrush muffled, Whatever was very audible for Stephen because he knew this woman better than himself. So he pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped right behind her; their eyes met through the mirror while his hands settled on top of her shoulders, where his thumbs started to massage the stiff muscles around the back of her neck. "I mean it, darling. You're not doing well, and I want you to relax and treat yourself to some hot soup and that fluffy blanket we got last week. Catch up on those shows, and I'm gonna try to get home early so I can prep you the perfect bath and cook you something nice."

He stopped for a second, but after no reaction on her behalf, Stephen bent his head to nibble at the side of her neck and found all her favorite spots before humming softly but raspy because he knew what his morning voice did to this woman. "I asked you a question, darling. Should I repeat myself for you?" Chuckling at the sight and feeling of her quick nod - the toothbrush rested pointlessly in the corner of her mouth - Stephen rested his lips just above her ear and watched her through the mirror again. "I asked," he started in his raspiest of morning voices, "if you understand me." Her deep sigh and mumbled "Okay, yes" sounded more like a tiny moan, and the doctor chuckled for another time before pressing a kiss to her temple and starting to brush his teeth as well; his arm closely wrapped around her waist and her body settling against his side, just as every morning they start together.

And just as every morning, Stephen couldn't get enough of their reflection together. Maybe he had to finally thank Christine for the hard work she had invested into playing matchmaker for them.

;

"Doctor LN!" The excited voice turned a bit hesitant as both arriving doctors turned around, and Jones had to face the embarrassment from earlier. "Doctor Strange, sir." And with that, the intern held two cups of to-go coffees in hand, stretching them out to his two supervisors. "I asked Doctor Palmer how you like your coffee, sir," he quickly spoke at the doubting look manifesting on Stephen's face, and YN rolled her still tired eyes. They stung a bit as well, as she now realized. "Deep breaths, Jones, he won't bite your head off." The man closely next to her scoffed before taking the first sip. "I wouldn't go this far as to promise things like that." YN hit him with her tablet but didn't wait for his reaction before turning her attention back to the intern while giving the labs of their GSW another once-over. She looked at Jones with a questioning expression after she had evaluated the patient's current constitution. They had worked so many hours together that she didn't even need to ask the question out loud. "Doctor Russel is preparing the anesthesia, and the team has prepped OR two, just the way you both prefer, Doctor LN, Doctor Strange."

Stephen had to raise both his eyebrows this time and had to admit that Jones wasn't a total catastrophe - he had to give him that at least.

YN nodded as they waited for the elevator to reach the operation room floor. As the doors opened to let them inside the metal coffin, as she loved to call this vicious transportation method, she gulped down the entirety of her coffee because she felt she needed every single drop of caffeine to withstand the upcoming hours of work. Her head had started to pound right after they had left the chic apartment Stephen and she called her own ever since they had finally moved together after three years of tedious dating, and it had gotten worse during the drive over here.

She hadn't told her over-worrying boyfriend a single word, of course. She would do this surgery, she would check up on some patients, and then - maybe - she would gift herself an early leave as a pre-Christmas kind of gift and get some good food on her way home. Perhaps she could start looking at those recipes she discovered while watching some stupid cooking show - which wasn't so stupid at all, seemingly.

Christmas dinner wouldn't cook itself after all, and she had promised Christine and her fiancé Marc that they could come over. Christmas was much more relaxed if there wasn't a family to celebrate it with.

But her confused thoughts, who chased themselves over the past couple of days since the first symptoms had begun, were interrupted abruptly as her throat acted up again. It started with a tingle, morphing into an annoying scratch before it would turn into a violent coughing fit. And it did, worse than ever. It got even worse after the first couple of nastily wet and deep-sounding coughs, and YN felt as if she couldn't get enough air into her overworking lungs. Her lungs constricted to relieve themselves of all the fluid which wasn't supposed to be in there, and every single breath burned like hell in her chest.

With one hand pressed against the elevator wall, the surgeon steadied herself, head buried in the crook of her arm, while cough after cough crept out of her throat and shook her entire body. Tears started to prickle in her stinging eyes, and the throbbing pain inside her skull increased tremendously within seconds.

Stephen was right at her side, one of his warm hands stroking over her entire back, up and down, while the familiar frown etched itself onto his forehead and in the space between his brows. Jones didn't know what to do, so he just stood there and hoped for a fast end of his favorite supervisor's misery. "Hey," the neurosurgeon mumbled softly as the coughing fit finally ceased, hand still rubbing over her back. "YN, listen," he began as the elevator stopped and the doors opened with a happy ding. “It’s nothing. Just a drop of coffee going in the wrong direction.” And with that, she pushed herself from the wall, fastened the grip around the tablet still in hand, and followed Jones, who himself had a worried expression on his face, but he didn't dare to say something. Especially not in front of Stephen Strange, who could end his barely started career right on this very spot. Instead, he took the personal belongings of both surgeons and nodded to the small changing room in this part of the hospital. "Your scrubs are already in there, straight from dry-cleaning. OR two will be fully prepped as soon as you're ready," he said before scurrying away.

Stephen watched his girlfriend with eagle eyes as he followed her into the changing room, and while she had already slipped out of her coat, he pushed the door close and just stood there. His eyes moved over her pale face - even more so than usual - and he noticed the constant frown engraved in her beautiful but tired-looking face. He even realized that she moved slower than normal, and everything took a tad longer. "YN...," he started again but was faced with a raised hand while she hurried to get into the dark blue scrubs.

The air condition in this part of the building was what she dreaded most since that cold had made its first appearance with a scratchy throat. Now all she wanted was to get back into that warm, thick coat she just had folded and wanted to wrap herself into the thick scarf Stephen had gotten her for Christmas two years ago, but all she got was thin blue scrubs and her comfy Nike sneakers.

"I am fine," she told him finally while popping another cough drop between her lips and starting to braid her hair. Stephen had, at last, made an effort to change as well, and YN was nothing but an admiring girlfriend again. She knew that sex was off the table until she got better, so she took what she could get very willingly, even if it were only tiny bread crumbs in the form of the sight of toned abs, biceps, and back. "Yeah... Wonder why that's so hard to believe after that coughing fit you threw in that elevator," he returned almost sourly, and YN understood it. She really did because she would be just as on edge as he was if it was Stephen who had gotten sick.

Sighing, the surgeon tied the end of her braid together before starting to secure it with bobby pins around her head. Stephen sighed as well and came over to her after lacing his sneakers and helped her just like every time they had the pleasure to operate together. He didn't say a single word, and YN let him sulk in silence for the time being. The Strange would soon open his mouth again because he wasn't the sulking-in-silent type of guy, and she was very thankful for this trade of his. How she hated to guess what wrong was and why the guy felt insulted. Stephen was surprisingly easy.

The entire world would question her sanity if they would ever hear her saying that out loud.

Upon entering the scrubbing area, she tied his recently preferred cap - she had gotten him that for his birthday because this man owned way too many ties - before he did the same for her. He pressed a soft kiss on her shoulder after his long and fast-working fingers were done and took the sink next to hers, where YN already had started to scrub in after putting on the face mask.

Stephen soon broke the silence, and again, she had been right: this man wasn't able to sulk on his own for long.

"As soon as your part is done, I want you to get an x-ray. I don't like the sound of that cough. You're happy that I don't have my stethoscope with me, otherwise, you wouldn't scrub in right now because I would hear something I really don't wanna hear, and I would send you straight up to Chamberlain." At the mention of the one cardiothoracic surgeon Stephen trusted most of the time, YN scrunched up her face. "I told you before, and I will tell you again, that I am fine. It's a nasty cold, nothing more. You're over-exaggerating." He stopped in the middle of scrubbing, head jerking in her direction. At this moment, she was glad that she only was able to see his eyes and the play of his eyebrows, but it was still as bad as she had anticipated. "Excuse me for worrying about my workaholic girlfriend who seemingly doesn't possess any kind of sense of self-preservation." Her eyes widened at that, and after rinsing off the soap residue on her arms, she threw the used bar of soap into the metal sink and turned to Stephen, arms raised so she wouldn't touch anything in the not sterile environment. "Look who's talking about lacking a sense of self-preservation. Do I have to remind you of that little episode of yours standing in a thirteen-hour surgery with a broken ankle? You're a fucking hypocrite, Stephen, and I am a grown woman who knows her boundaries very well, thank you very fucking much."

And with that, she passed him and entered the operation room, where the patient was already put under, and two of the residents prepared the last few instruments to their surgeon's liking. She instantly regretted every single word she had spoken out loud back in the scrubbing room and wanted to run back to apologize profusely, but she knew that she had to stand her point, even though it hurt her heart.

One of the nurses held open the light blue gown, and YN entered arms first before pushing her hands into the open-held gloves, sighing softly. Those steps were always almost meditative for her and her mind, always putting her at ease, no matter how severe the case was.

The OR was her safe place when other places weren't available - just like now because the safe place that Stephen represented wasn't available, not until the steam wore off and their sights weren't as red-tinted as they were now. Sometimes it was hard to love a person that was so similar to oneself, but YN had chosen, and she never regretted choosing Stephen as her partner in every moment that life offered her.

Stepping at the operating table, YN nodded in everyone's direction to greet them, and she pushed every thought about their little fight out of her mind. "Good morning, everybody. Long time no see, June." The OR nurse chuckled. "I thought we would get at least a day and a half before being back in here together." YN grinned behind her mask and softly shrugged. "Hope you had a good coffee because judging by those scans, we will be here for quite some time. Is your son at daycare? Do you need to go and call someone to pick him up later?"

Stephen had entered quietly - he preferred it that way, unlike his girlfriend - but watched her closely because it always left him speechless what a welcoming and open-hearted nature this woman had who had chosen to live with him. He still asked himself why she had decided that he was the one person worthy enough of her love and attention.

"He is upstairs at the emergency daycare, no worries, Doctor LN. We prepared a bottle of water for you, by the way. Doctor Jones said you could use a sip here and there." Nodding her head, YN stepped closer and opened her gloved hand. "Thanks, June. Ten blade, please."

Stephen had already started with the incision and worked through the brain's tissue while always having an eye on the cardiothoracic surgeon just a few feet further down to him.

;

Dabbing with a clean towel over the recently repaired aorta, YN slowly nodded, satisfied with her work. No one would suspect this artery was a shredded mess three hours ago. "Okay... Those stitches look good. Suction." The resident, Doctor Peterson, moved the tube slowly through the chest cavity. "Over here?" His question was unanswered for an unusual amount of time, so he looked up to see his supervisor's face. "Doctor LN?" Blinking, YN raised her head and watched Peterson before turning her attention back to the open chest in front of her. Her brain had difficulties following everything after standing for six hours straight. "Yes... Yes, sorry. Right over there."

Stephen had stopped working as the question arose and yet again watched the woman with eagle eyes.

She turned her head to cough softly into her mask while pressing her face against the sterile OR gown at her shoulder. Clearing her throat, YN nodded as one of the not scrubbed-in nurses raised the half-emptied water bottle and waited until one took off the light of her head, pulled down the mask, and finally put the straw right in front of her lips. YN's team was the best a surgeon could find, she was sure of that. "Thanks, Helen," she mumbled after everything was back at its place, and she stepped back at the table.

"What's happening next?" She asked Peterson now, her voice scratchier than ever, and her lungs started to protest again. Taking a deep breath - well, as deep as it was possible with a lower lung capacity - YN tried to shake off that strange feeling as if her head was wrapped in cotton and as if she couldn't get enough air into her lungs and much-needed oxygen into her bloodstream. "We will follow the aorta up to the left ventricle, check the three branches - brachiocephalic artery, left common carotid artery, and the left subclavian artery - before taking him off the cardiopulmonary bypa-... Doctor YN? Are you alright?"

She barely could understand his words, but the sound of the scalpel hitting the ground next to her right foot was all-consuming. YN didn't even realize that it had fallen out of her strangely numb fingers at which she stared now, unmoving. Everything seemed so far gone in front of her eyes, especially as the room started to spin around her.

"YN? YN, talk to me. What is wrong?"

Stephen. His voice was as calm as ever, but she couldn't push herself to move her head and look into his handsome face. Everything was spinning too much.

"I... I don't feel so well..."

It was barely a whisper, and if the operation room weren't deadly silent, except for the monitors and the oxygenator, no one would've understood it. But Stephen's mind switched focus between the open brain in front of him and his girlfriend only two feet away. The constant switch was as smooth as it had always been, even though his brain screamed to stop working and to rush over to her. But he couldn't let go, not with the DeBakey forceps in this man's brain and near the last splinter of the broken bullet. Instead, his hand didn't move a single inch while he raised his gaze to stare over at YN.

"Keep on talking, darling. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He needed to keep her conscious, and it always helped when he was calm and asked her questions she could easily answer. Just as he would do during one of her anxiety or panic attacks. He could see her blinking slowly, almost in slow-motion while her brain tried to keep up with his words, even though it would love to just blink out.

"Chest's hurting. My head... Everything's spinning. I... Stephen..."

And with that, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she collapsed onto the sterile floor. He could hear instruments clattering on the floor, and Stephen didn't want to think about the possibility that her head had hit the instrument's tray.

"YN?!"

"Doctor LN!"

"Oh gosh, Doctor LN?"

"Get her some oxygen, god damn it!"

Suddenly, pure chaos dominated the operation room, and Stephen worked as fast as he could while shouting questions.

"Could somebody talk to me?!" He needed to know if she was okay. "Somebody needs to say something, or this entire room gets fired!" Stephen didn't care if he sounded like a maniac. "85/50. It's a wonder she held up for this long. Open wound at her right forehead, probably needs stitching. Doctor LN? YN, can you hear me?" The sound of snapping fingers was heard, but no answer. One of the nurses looked back at him, kneeing on the ground next to YN. "We'll bring her upstairs, Doctor Strange." He quickly looked up, straight into the nurse's face. "Make an x-ray of her lungs, a head CT to clear her of a concussion, and don't you dare let anyone other than Henderson stitch that. Page Doctor Palmer, she will see through with everything. And someone needs to page Chamberlain; we still have an open chest here." Shuffling was heard before the anesthesiologist spoke up right next to him. "Hamilton is on duty, sir," he reminded the neurosurgeon, but Stephen scoffed while slowly grabbing the bullet with the forceps. "I don't care if that accident of a surgeon is the fucking president of the United States. Get. Me. Chamberlain." YN would decapitate him with her bare hands if she learned about the fact that Hamilton had ruined hours of her hard, perfect work.

And with that, he returned to his job, mind still a bit out of tune with an unconscious YN being put on a gurney and pushed out of the room only several feet away from him.

He had never felt more helpless in his life.

Do your job, and you can look after her. Do your job, and you can sit next to her and wait for her to wake up. Everything will be okay, Stephen. Stop spiraling.

;

The familiar sounds of the hospital surrounded him, but Stephen almost didn't hear them, not since he had gotten the x-ray scans of YN's lungs and the CT of her head. His eyes were practically glued to the tablet screen in his hands, forearms resting on his knees and supporting the weight of his upper body. He couldn't sit straight anymore, nor could he stand, not since they had been left alone in the room YN now occupied in the cardiothoracic unit.

It had taken a long time until he got some peace and quietness minus the beeping sounds of the machines hooked up to his girlfriend because she always had been admired and loved by her colleagues. Everyone had wanted to come by and leave little cards full of Get well soon. If flowers were allowed, the room would probably be filled with them by now.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Stephen scanned the images of the CT another time - he had stopped counting an hour ago - and as all the times before that, he stared at the mild concussion caused by the metal table full of surgical instruments and the hit on the floor right after that. He had scheduled a second CT in about an hour because he had to be sure there wasn't any bleeding, as minor as it could be. He couldn't allow himself to miss it - it would not only end her career, but it could steal the love of his life right from under his eyes in the worst case.

And Stephen always measured in worst-case scenarios if it involved his girlfriend.

A nurse entered the room silently to replace the drip of antibiotics her body would've needed days ago, but better late than never, he guessed. He didn't acknowledge his presence at all - he wasn't in the mood for small talk or reassurances - so he left after checking his supervisor's vitals, and they were alone again.

Typing on the glass screen, the neurosurgeon made sure that the second head CT was indeed booked, even thinking about changing it to a CT with contrast indication, but Christine would probably kill him if she saw how he spiraled and put the tablet on the bedside table. Everything will be alright, he told himself, his hands rubbing over his face and through his now messy hair.

He just had rested his face in the palm of his hands as the sound of movements under the blanket pushed Stephen to look up again. A hoarse groan followed close, and instantly, the man raised from the chair and sat on the edge of the comfortable bed. His eyes took her face in, scanned it for any indication of a stroke everyone had missed out on, and gently held the hand who wasn't hooked up to the drip and heart monitor. Finally, YN's eyes opened slowly, and she blinked; another groan escaped her at the blinding light.

"YN," Stephen almost whispered and scooted a bit closer. A soft but questioning "Hm" was all he got for now, and his heart started to race in his chest; every stimulant responsible for the emotions of fear and panic distributed into his bloodstream, and his usually barely rising anxiety had its peak season with all the adrenaline rushing through is body. He couldn't think straight when it came to her. Never. So he started to caress her face with the tips of his fingers - starting right above her brow, down over her temples, and over her cheeks because he knew that it almost always tickled her, and she would scrunch up her nose. She did exactly that, but only barely noticeable. "YN, I need you to focus, darling. Can you squeeze my hands?" Stephen already held both her hands, and she squeezed them; softly at first, but with every passing second, her grip became tighter. "Okay. Good job, love. Can you feel this?" Stephen's hand had slipped under the blanket to stroke his fingertips over the soles of her feet, and her toes wiggled at the ticklish feeling.

A cough shook her body again before YN could open her mouth. "Could you please stop tickling a barely awake woman? That's socially considered as rude as fuck," her hoarse voice whispered, and Stephen instantly took her hand between his and pressed it against his still rapidly beating heart. "YN." Seemingly, his brain had lost its capacity because Stephen could only mumble her name. Relief rushed through him and counterattacked the adrenaline.

The woman opened her eyes, blinking, to look up at him. "Yeah, s'still my name." Her head throbbed, and she didn't want to know what had happened after her brain had decided to quit his job entirely. "Stop freaking out, Stephen, I'm alright." She tenderly squeezed one of his hands and had to sneeze as she realized the feeling of oxygen tickling the insides of her nose. "Y'all really went all out on me." Amusement was evident in her small voice, but Stephen couldn't laugh about it - and probably would never do.

"You scared the hell out of me, YNN."

Suddenly, she turned serious and beckoned him closer. The tired man obliged but wasn't prepared for her pulling his head onto her chest, but he didn't mind. It had always been his most favorite spot in the world. He felt safe. And cherished. And loved. YN's fingers carded through his hair, which just started to turn grey at his temples, but differently to him, she didn't want him to dye it, so he didn't get the at-home dye while getting the groceries last week.

It was strange what he would do for this woman. But at the same time, it wasn't, especially with the thought about that black velvety box hidden in his locker lingering in the back of his mind.

"I'm sorry, love," she whispered into his soft strands and kissed his head. "Wasn't my intention, really. Thought I'd be strong enough. Strong enough for my patient and strong enough for you." Now, he had to prop himself up on his arm to stare incredulously at the woman he loved more than anything. "I am sorry, but what?" YN shrugged and felt pitiful. "Y'know, you're this incredible man and surgeon, always perfect, always giving his entire being for his patients, and I need to keep up with that, so you won't leave me because you'd find a better, more perfect woman, and-..." He interrupted her nonsense by starting to pepper kisses over her face, except her lips. They didn't need another pneumonia in just a week or two. "Wherever those thoughts came from, you can send them back there, darling. Okay?" Slowly, YN nodded and closed her eyes with a sigh as Stephen pressed a lingering kiss to her still warm forehead.

"Can you show me the scans?"

He stayed close to her as his hand grabbed the tablet and opened her file. Stephen watched her as her eyes darted over every lab they had run, every x-ray image (which looked even worse than she had anticipated, but she couldn't change that anymore), and at last, she scanned the CT. "There is probably a second one coming, am I right?" He shrugged while she softly laughed under her breath and let the tablet sink onto the thickest blanket this hospital owned. "How long will you keep me locked away at our place, Doctor?" The Strange was still propped up on his arms, as close to her as possible without crashing her with his weight or putting too much pressure on her already hard-working lungs, and hummed, deep in thought. "With that much fluid and inflammation in your lungs and larynx? Not to mention the concussion?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, it's a baby concussion."

Stephen cocked an eyebrow. "Ah, so now you're the world's best neurosurgeon?"

"Don't flatter yourself." She rolled her eyes. "That title can earn anyone, even you." YN hit his shoulder playfully, and a small grin tucked at her lips. An unbelieving but humored "Hmpf" escaped the surgeon before he turned serious again. "Back to the topic at hand. Until you're discharged, you will do whatever the staff is saying. You won't discharge yourself or medicate yourself." YN had already opened her mouth to say something, but Stephen only had to shake his head in one direction, and she closed it again. "Don't try to talk me out of it because I know you, YN LN." Now it was her turn to "Hmpf" in annoyance. "Anyway. After you're discharged, you will stay at home, catch up on all of your movies and shows, bake to your heart's desire, and recover. I don't have to tell you what pneumonia does to your lungs in the long run. You will have to strengthen them again, and that's exactly what you're gonna do, darling. Looking after yourself and taking care of your health and body because I need you a few more years longer."

A loving smile settled upon her tired face, and YN tenderly caressed his cheek with her knuckles. "So... You won't get tired of me just yet?" Stephen chuckled before pressing a kiss into the palm of her hand. "I am not quite sure if that's even a possibility, darling," he returned and kissed her palm a second and a third time, his mind always wandering back to his locker and the box he intended to show her on Christmas Eve because it was one of her favorite days of the entire year. Now, he would have to postpone everything he had planned.

It may be a small throwback, but it would still be perfect.

A soft knock at the doorframe moved the couple to look over and see a smiling Christine standing there. "Sleeping Beauty is awake and obviously fine, perfect. He drove me crazy in the last couple of hours." Stephen rose from his comfortable position and turned his head to his friend. "I wasn't that bad," he tried to defend himself, but now it was YN who scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, love." Then, looking at Christine, she continued: "He went all neurosurgeon-mode because I didn't jump on the bed right after the first blink. Thought my brain would be mush, and I'd be a lost cause." He never stood a chance against these two women, always calling him out and letting him face his flaws - which he never liked much.

"Whatever," he mumbled at the chuckle of his friend before turning back to the redhead. "Is the CT ready?" Christine nodded in approval, and right after that, a nurse pushed a wheelchair into the room.

With the most neutral expression on her face, which looked kind of pissed, YN changed looks with both doctors.

"I'm not gonna sit in that thing."

–

She arrived at the CT in said thing.

;

She felt soft pecks of even softer lips on her face, and she woke up to that feeling. Yawning, YN blinked up, and both arms fought a way out of the fluffy blanket cocoon she had wrapped herself into to circle them around Stephen's neck.

Ever since her discharge two weeks ago, she had been a good patient, an excellent one, to be quite honest. She never overdid it, always respecting the new boundaries her still recovering lungs had set for her and always listening to the doctors. Well, more like listening to Stephen because he was the one doctor she trusted the most.

"You're early again," the woman mumbled against the skin of his neck, where her face was securely tucked away, and YN could feel his lips on her skin once again. "I told you how this would go. Do my promises mean so little to you?" Grinning, she shrugged and let him sit her up on the comfortable couch she fell asleep on while watching a random news channel.

Apparently, the Avengers were back in the city, and YN desperately hoped she didn't need to drive detours on end just because they thought it would be a great idea to stroll around town, so idiotic humans could form crowds at the glimpse of one of them.

Shaking her head, the woman pushed her fingers through his hair that had acquired a few more grey patches, which she secretly admired every day. "It's just that I know you, Stephen, and I know your workaholic tendencies are just as bad as mine." YN kissed the cold tip of his nose and accepted the cup of tea he had grabbed from the coffee table. "Did you take your meds?" She nodded proudly. "Yup. And the throbbing is finally gone without an Advil." That concussion had been a constant pain in her ass.

Stephen smiled one of his satisfied smiles and kissed her forehead while standing up again. "Well, with that out of the way..." He scooped her up into his arms, and YN squealed-laughing the entire way into the open kitchen, where the Strange sat her on top of the kitchen island. The delicious smell of her favorite food and restaurant wafted through the air, and she took a deep breath without feeling the urge to cough her lungs out. "You seriously drove through the entire city to get me Don Angie's?"

Usually, the expensive Italian restaurant located in Greenwich Village didn't do take-out, but for a selected group of people - people with the right numbers on their checks - they tend to loosen their rules. But well, this very household had a reservation minimum once a month, so they probably were already considered family.

Stephen smiled at the joy he brought into his girlfriend's eyes and started to unpack the containers full of food and dessert. "For you, darling? Always." Scooting over the marble countertop, YN grabbed Stephen's wrist to pull him between her sweatpants-clad legs - his sweatpants, to be precise - and cupped his handsome face with both hands. Her nose softly brushed against his, and Stephen sighed, letting his eyes fall shut and leaning his forehead against hers. "Can I marry you? Will you marry me?" Her question was nothing but a soft whisper, and he had to tear open his eyes to stare into her face, with that knowing smile he almost dreaded to see in such a context. "You really thought it would be a great idea to hide it here when I have almost the whole day to myself?"

He seriously didn't think about that before he took the black velvety box out of his locker because he only had thought about the practicability of it staying at their apartment. He wouldn't have to drive to the hospital to get it if he would've decided to propose to YN spontaneously. And now, he had ruined the surprise with his own hands.

Great.

Scrunching up his face, Stephen groaned and let his forehead sink back against hers as he felt both of her hands carding through his hair again, trying to soothe him. "I didn't open it if that takes something off that disappointment, love," YN whispered and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You didn't?" He had to be sure that at least something of that surprise was still viable. Her head shake was answer enough, and he took a deep breath. "Well, it wasn't a total surprise, now, was it? I think the direction this relationship took off after we moved in together was almost painfully clear or is it just me?"

Maybe it was all in his head, and YN never had the intention to settle down with him, being the smartest couple in medicine, maybe starting a family, growing old together. Maybe it was all just his silly little idea, but never hers.

YN sighed softly at the look on his face, and she could almost feel his spiraling thoughts running havoc inside his overthinking mind. That's why she took his chin between her fingers and forced him to open his eyes again. "It's not only in your head, Stephen. It never was. We may have never talked about it in detail, but the allusion was always there. Our conversation about looking for something more... comfortable, less statement? I would have never brought up the topic of this-", she pointed from her to him, "-wouldn't be a one-way ticket for me. And it is a one-way ticket because I don't need a return ticket. Kids, pets, a life just with the two of us - I don't care as long as you're in it, Stephen Vincent Strange."

He needed to blink in order to keep those foolish tears at bay. Instead, he dove for a deep kiss, so full of love, respect, and adoration that it almost blew his mind.

"You’ll get a proper proposal, darling," he promised, lips still connected and words muffled by it, but YN understood him clear as day. "I hope so because you're the overachiever in this relationship and need to outdo Marc." Grinning at the thought of Stephen's future victorious smile, she kissed him again before squinting over to the food. "I love your kisses, but I'm hungry. Could we do dessert first? On the couch? I'd love some cuddles after five long hours without my personal doctor to fulfill every single of my needs and wishes." One last time, Stephen bent down to kiss her before opening the containers with almost every dessert on the menu and her strolling back to the couch to make space for him between all the pillows and blankets.

"I am not your butler."

But he shouted the words with a smile on his face and one thought on his mind: Life could never turn to the worst with her in it.

Thank you so much for reading! As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

Taglist:

@harpywritesfic @strangeions @maenightingale @ben-er-ino @multifandomrandomgirl @lucimorningst4r @hunterofshadows04 @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83

Crossed out names mean tumblr didn't let me tag you!

868 notes · View notes

musclesandhammering · 8 months

Text

“Sorcerers who’ve been practicing and perfecting their craft for literal years are humiliated and outdone by a young pretty white girl who was magically born with all the powers the rest of them had to work for” has got to be the worst trope in fantasy movies.

#I’m talking about The Craft specifically #Nancy and her coven should’ve killed Sarah and that’s it on that ☕️#im also talking about Wanda fucking maximoff #Stephen strange and the folks at kamar taj etc etc should’ve obliterated her in like 72 seconds #pretty young while girl sickness is such a problem in our society I fear #fantasy #fantasy movies #the craft #marvel #mcu #anti wanda maximoff #so essentially the message is #it doesn’t really matter how hard you work #other coded character must comply and be subservient to the wet blanket conformist characters #or they will be crushed and vanquished and defeated while ms pumpkin spice latte gloats over their bodies #got it

43 notes · View notes

frostandflamesfanfic · 2 years

Text

I Need a Doctor (Strange x Reader)

I Need a Doctor (Rated T)

Request?: YES (for Anon: comfort fic)

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: A bit of angst/self-deprecation, but otherwise fluff and Stephen being just the sweetheart we know he is.

Summary: One night, you wake up feeling incredibly sick. When your boyfriend (who happens to be the Sorcerer Supreme and world's ex-top neurosurgeon), comes to your aid, new questions surface in your mind. Just how will it change your relationship with the good doctor?

!! NO MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS !!

You shook your head violently, hands twitching as they gripped onto the satin sheets between your fingers. This was the second time you had threatened to pull them up and over your face in an attempt to protect yourself. “No!” you exclaimed.

“Take it!” the voice of Doctor Stephen Strange said from above you. It was obvious he was growing impatient. Frankly, you didn’t care. This was a matter of life and death.

“No!” you drawled out again as you wrapped the sheet around your face.

“For God’s sake,” Stephen was exasperated now. “Just take the damn pill!”

“That thing is huge, Stephen. It’s the size of an avocado pit.”

The Sorcerer Supreme heaved another sigh. You couldn’t see his face from under your cover. Maybe that was for the best. Although, you could already envision the look of disdain across his facial features. “For the last time. It will not hurt you.”

You pulled the covers off your face and glared at him. “That’s easy for you to say when you don’t have to worry about choking and dying!” An accusatory index finger was pointed in his direction. You were on the verge of another coughing fit, but because you just had to be stubborn, your voice was now coming out as scratchy as a record. “You said it was small!!”

“It is small!”

“Like hell it is!” you retorted. “If that’s small, then the moon is a potato chip! I can’t swallow that pill. If I even attempt to, I will gag, choke on my own vomit, and die.”

Stephen scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I think you’re being a bit dramatic, dear.” When you merely glared at him, Stephen gave a small smile in return. “Alright, fine. On the off chance you do choke, I know CPR.”

You allowed yourself a moment to contemplate his offer. Even though you would be unable to breathe, the idea of your boyfriend’s lips on yours sent a tingle down your spine. It always felt like the first time with him, mainly because this whole relationship thing was new in the first place. You had originally met Stephen at the New York Public Library, where he had chosen to return all thirty-seven of his library books....at once. Looking back, you wished you could have come up with something quirkier to say to him – something you could both find funny, instead of your sarcastic self bleeding onto the surface.

“Introverted bookworm,” you had said as you scanned the final item, a copy of Moby Dick.

“Pardon?” Stephen glanced up at you with a quizzically raised eyebrow.

“Introverted bookworm. They dedicate all their time to reading and nothing else.” You shrugged. “Not big on parties, large crowds…having lots of friends…”

The sorcerer before you lifted his arms shakily to his chest and crossed them in a silent challenge. “Oh, really? You think I’m one of these bookworms?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “And what makes you deduce that, Sherlock?”

You first pointed to the pile of books that you had finally finished scanning in, then to the new stacks of material he planned to check out that afternoon. “Clearly someone who starts his week with this much literature isn't in the habit of spending time with others.”

“Oh, this? No, this is just some light reading,” a sheepish grin stretched across Stephen’s face.

“Then I’d certainly hate to be on staff when you decide to actually go ham.”

It had taken some time, but the two of you ultimately forged a bond. You connected over your mutual love for books and literature. That connection grew stronger as you began to learn more about each other. Though you weren’t sure why at first, Stephen told you about Christine. He told you how they met, worked together after college, and how they had needed to part ways… it wasn’t until he invited you for coffee that you finally put the pieces together. He told you of his past to show you his future, or at least what hoped his future would look like, with you.

Now here he was, standing in your bedroom with a cup of orange juice in his right hand and a large red pill in the other. When you had woken up feeling like Hell burned over, you didn’t think twice before calling your boyfriend. He may not have been a primary care doctor, but Stephen still had the experience working with a variety of patients over the years. He knew which drugs would be best to help whatever ails you. Within seconds, a portal opened in your living room to reveal just the man you wanted to see.

You instantly regretted the call, though, when you witnessed Stephen step through the portal. He was in his pyjamas. A soft heather grey t-shirt had been tossed on over his red and black plaid pants. His hair was also a tousled mess with stray black strands sticking in his eyes.

“You didn’t need to come,” you had argued. “I could handle it myself-”

“You’re sick,” the groggy voice of your boyfriend caused you to shiver. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t come to help you?”

While you were beyond grateful to have him in your life, you didn’t want to have to bother him with something as trivial as this. You wanted to show him that you could be strong. The last thing you wanted was to portray this weak significant other who always needed their boyfriend to constantly save the day.

Every day while Stephen fought against the dark forces of the Mystic Arts, you sat behind a desk mindlessly documenting damage from the latest whack-job that attacked New York. Nothing you did was exciting or remarkable. Even before he had become the Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen still saved lives through his work as a neurosurgeon. Granted, it never resonated with him as it did now, but it demonstrated his courage and overall strength.

You never had that chance. Instead of going out into the fight, you chose to run away from it and let those much more powerful save the day. It made you feel weak. You could be better – you could always be better. Stephen deserved better. In fact, he deserved the world. That’s why you never could understand why he chose to be with you instead of trying to get back together with her. Doctor Christine Palmer always seemed to understand Stephen and his personality. From what he told you, she was fearless and never let anything get in the way of helping her patients. She was a wonder woman – and everything you could never measure up to.

“So are we just going to stare off into the distance or are we going to take this pill?” Stephen’s voice snapped you out of whatever dazed state you were in. “I wasn’t joking about that CPR offer.”

You risked a glance up at him. He was smiling now, his multi-coloured eyes flickering between sincerity and genuine concern. “Stephen, I’m not going to get you sick.”

A sigh escaped his lips. “Do you ever stop worrying?” You flinched, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the Sorcerer Supreme. “Touchy subject, alright. . .” He crossed his arms. “Do you want to tell me what’s really going on here?”

There was a period of silence as you thought about sharing the truth with your boyfriend. You knew you needed to tell him at some point. Relationships were built on trust and honesty. If you felt this relationship wasn’t established for the right reasons, and you couldn’t even trust him to know that fear, maybe you weren’t meant to last. “I don’t know why you’re here,” you said at last.

“What do you mean you don’t know why I’m here?” Stephen gave a chuckle. “You called me.”

“That’s not what I mean, Stephen. I mean I don’t get why you’re here…in a relationship…with me.”

The sorcerer in front of you placed the items he was holding in his hand down on the nightstand. With some effort, he crouched next to your stretched form. A shaky hand trailed from the top of your hair to the swell of your chin. “Darling,” Stephen said softly, “it’s because I love you.”

“But I’m not perfect,” you hated how vulnerable you sounded. The congestion mixed with the tears that were threatening to spill out of your eyes made you sound like a five-year-old. You felt like a five-year-old with the fit you were pitching over the entire situation. “I’m not strong enough. Hell, I can’t even handle a stinking cold! I’m not a superhero. I don’t save lives as a doctor. I’m not even your type.”

“And who decides who my type is?” The amusement had left Stephen’s face completely by this point. When you started your breakdown, he realised just how much you believed what you were saying. It hurt him to see you like this -- so down on yourself that you didn’t even see what he could. You couldn’t see the strong independent person he fell in love with, who would do anything to get a story to see the light of day.

“Your type is someone strong, who can save the world,” you stared into his eyes. “You deserve someone who gets you completely, who is just like you. Not someone who’s a wimp and runs from danger. Someone like Christine. Why don’t you just leave?”

You could almost see the heart shatter behind Stephen’s green-blue eyes. He couldn’t believe you were doing this to him, much less to yourself. “Who I need,” he said before he brushed his lips against your forehead, “is someone who makes me smile; who makes me feel special. Someone who is willing to fight their editor with a stapler gun- and nearly be fired for it- in order for a story about a children’s shoe store shutting down to be sent to print-”

“Gary’s Shoes has been a staple in Greenwich since I was a kid! To have it torn down after fifty years would be ridiculous. Joe could just go screw himself if he thought I was just going to let that story slide into the recycle bin.”

A chuckle escaped Stephen’s lips. “My little spitfire,” he mumbled. “The point is…” He reached over to grab the cup of orange juice and sat next to you. “There is only one person out there for me and that's you. You’re my type. You're just the person I want. I don’t want Christine. I want you and only you.”

You shifted on the mattress to sit back up, sighing softly. “But you don’t need to keep taking care of me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Stephen brushed back a stray strand of hair from your eyes. “I don’t need to take care of you. I get to help you and I want to.”

“But you could get sick…” you fought back weakly.

“Well, then you’ll just need to take care of me,” Stephen replied as he swung his legs to lay down next to you, cup still in hand. “I think you would make an excellent nurse. Now, can you please take the pill so we can move onto the next part of your treatment?”

You frowned. “What treatment?”

“A nice long nap. With cuddles. Doctor’s orders.” A smug smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Without another hesitation, you took the cup and swallowed the evil monster gargantuan pill (although it did take some effort). As soon as you cleared the remaining liquid, you launched yourself against the soft material of Stephen’s t-shirt with a happy sigh. You gave a small hum as his hands made their way up the back of your shirt, providing you with a skin-on-skin contact you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I love you,” you whispered as your eyelids began to flutter.

“I love you,” the sound of Stephen’s low voice vibrated within his chest, causing you to smile while you drifted off to sleep.

Little did you know that as you made your way into dreamland, Stephen was watching over you with a small smile of his own. That evening, he made a vow to himself that someday very soon he would show you how much you meant to him. He would be there for every sick day, every great day, every bad day. Each night, you would go to bed and he’d be there. There would be no doubt of the love you shared with each other. Christine would be but a distant memory to you both because Stephen had finally found you.

He chose you.

And he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life loving you with all his heart.

==========================

Author's Note: Ugh my heart hurt in the best way writing that ending. Sorry Anon if that didn't meet what you were requesting!! I'm currently sick with another cold, so my inspiration wasn't that unique this time. But let's keep the domestic!Stephen Strange going, yeah? :)

To provide a mini-update, uni has just started up for me recently, so I'm not sure how my schedule is going to hold up. I hope to have some time to write and post like usual, but I do plan on scheduling some posts in advance so there is content for you all! As usual, don't forget to leave a like, a comment, and even a reblog because it really helps me out here! And if you want to request a fic, make sure to check out my Request Guidelines before sending a request through an ask. I may be a bit selfish, but please give me some Variant!Stephen requests. I need an excuse to write some after watching MoM!

Until next time, loves (I feel like I need a name for my readers...help me pick one!)!

SS Taglist: @ohchoices

#frostandflamesfanfic #doctor strange #doctor strange fanfiction #marvel mcu #doctor strange x reader #benedict cumberbatch #stephen strange fanfiction #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange fluff #doctor strange imagine #gender neutral reader #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #stephen strange imagine #pre infinity war #civilian!reader #sick day #fic request

245 notes · View notes

doctorofmagic · 2 years

Text

I’m just exhausted of seeing bad takes on both characters because of the movie but at least those I can take. But when I see someone commenting that Stephen and Wanda’s relationship in comics is based on jealousy because Stephen was peeved for being rejected when he offered mentorship to Wanda, this really gets on my nerves.

West Coast Avengers #79.

Stephen has never been peeved about it. He has always supported Wanda and shared a friendship in which they trust one another enough to call on their own bs when needed.

Doctor Strange v1 #381.

You all KNOW Bendis hated Wanda since day 1, Stephen in both Avengers and House of M is not in character when it comes to the bond they share so many times in so many adventures, and also it’s really convenient to pick old panels in which it seems that Stephen is strangeplaining her when actually pretty much everyone in the Avengers used to do that because of poor writing. Even Agatha is condescending towards her. And Agatha is her freaking tutor. And I could go on on how Bendis twists pretty much tons of characters to their cores (do I really need to mention Civil War I and II???).

Stop putting one against the other in comic books. We KNOW Wanda has been treated poorly for a long time since House of M and that was never fixed (maybe with Darkhold Omega but I have my reservations, also Trial of Magneto was awful on so many levels yikes). She deserves better and the hate she gets in Krakoa is awful, but she’s very welcome in the Bar with no Doors, so where’s your excuse that Stephen and Wanda’s bond is not good enough?

Doctor Strange v4 #4.

At least the magic bond they share is waaay deeper than any other bond. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be seeing Magik and Scarlet Witch working together in v4. The magic community is something that I’ll never get tired of praising because it’s so much bigger than stupid little beefs people like to bring about. Really, if you’re biased about Stephen, at least do not twist what you’re reading just because you assume you know him as a whole when he has DECADES of character development.

Doctor Strange v2 #60.

I’m just really really really tired of having to deal with people who only checked House of M and decided Stephen is like that. I’ve been trying to undo the damage of the arrogant narrative for literal years thanks to this arc, Waid and the MCU. It’s time to stop.

(PS: it’s not new for people who follow me that I also hate Empyre: X-men because yeah, Hickman also seems to hate Wanda sooooo last good time they had together was long time ago in v4. We need these moments back.)

#doctor strange #stephen strange #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #marvel comics #also please don't compare their mcu counterparts because god please no just no #sick to my stomach of so much misinformation

250 notes · View notes

dazesanddoodles · 6 months

Text

summer polaroids</3

#donna and fen…. oh i’m sick #the sisters ever!#they’re so important to me #fen needs glasses CANON!#lmk if you want the donna lore of the fen universe (aka lmk if you want to be sad)#can’t believe i forgot to post this back n august #donna strange #stephen strange #fen au #dazndoodraws #doctor strange #dr strange #dr stephen strange #doctor stephen strange #desi stephen strange #bangladeshi stephen strange #transfem stephen strange

12 notes · View notes

professional-benaddict · 2 years

Note

Peter volunteers at the hospital and every week he always brings in treats for the nurses and doctors. His Aunt was a nurse and knew how hard they work and a little treat always helps brightens peoples day.

Dr. Strange becomes smitten with him. And when he finds out he went to MIT and is smart? Runs a department at Stark Industry? It's perfect.

Buy when Stephen finally asks Peter out, Peter says yes! But only if his husband, Tony, could join too.

#OHHHH💗💗💗💗💗#tHis is so good and perfect and ahhhh #im still sick and not 100% so i cant get my tired brain to add anything #bUt its already so perfect so it doesnt need anything🌸🌸#ironstrange #starkerstrange #starker #strangespider #spiderstrange #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x stephen strange #tony stark x stephen strange #peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange #ask

125 notes · View notes

popcorn-plots · 22 days

Text

my sore throat is almost 100% gone. Yay! The cold has progressed to tired 24/7 (not that that's unusual), and cotton in my ears. plus headaches. because that's what head colds do :')

I got to binge watch Sherlock today though, and I had an entire box of mac & cheese to myself. good times.

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

Stephen woke up for the third time that day to a stuffy nose. Tony was still holding him, but he had fallen asleep and Bluey had been turned off. Stephen groaned when he realized he could not breathe through his nose.

Absolutely wonderful. Truly one of Nature's most magnificent feats.

Stephen wriggled out of Tony's grasp to search for tissues, some painkillers, and possibly some food. He didn't have any appetite, but damn was he hungry.

Finally, after digging through the closet, Stephen finally found a pack of tissues. He blew his nose (not that that helped one bit) and wandered into the bedroom to find his phone.

'We need tissues :(' he texted Wong.

'Is Tony still there? he can get you some. if not, there's some in the closet.' came Wong's near-immediate reply.

'I found those. and tony's asleep.'

'alright, I'll pick some up on my way home. last class ends in an hour. anything else you need?'

Stephen smiled at his husband's text.

'just you <3'

'aww. get some rest, honeysuckle. I'll be home soon.'

'love you.'

'i love you to. send Tony my love when he wakes up.'

'k'

"Stephen?" Speak of the devil. "Stephen?"

Stephen wandered back into the living room. "Hi."

"Hey, Stephy. How was your nap?" Tony asked.

"Good. Wong will be home in an hour." Stephen relayed, sniffling slightly. Tony nodded.

"Bluey until he gets back?"

"Bluey until he gets back."

~~~

That's how Wong found his two lovers when he returned from work, curled up together on the couch watching Bluey, Stephen's favorite show, while Tony brushed his fingers through Stephen's sweaty hair.

"Hello, how are we?" Wong asked, entering the living room. He planted a kiss on Tony's lips and kissed Stephen's forehead. Stephen looked up at him with a dopey smile, his eyes glazed over with his cold.

"Hi, Wong."

"Hey."

Stephen laid his head back on Tony's shoulder. "I want Wong cuddles." he suddenly declared, much to Tony and Wong's amusement.

"Let me just change my clothes and find some food and I'll come give you Wong cuddles." Wong said.

Stephen hummed and went back to watching his cartoon with Tony.

~~~

Like always, Wong changed quickly and scarfed down some leftover pizza from the night before. He joined his lovers on the couch, maneuvering himself so Stephen fit into his arms while still half-laying on Tony.

Stephen sighed and leaned back into Wong. "Missed you."

"I missed you too. And I got work off for the week, and I got work off for you as well. I can stay and cuddle until you feel better."

"Yay. And Tony?"

"Maybe." Tony answered. "I have some big meetings at SI that I can't get out of, but I'll come over whenever I can, Kay?"

"Kay."

Wong pressed a kiss to the side of Stephen's head. "I'm sorry you got sick."

"S'okay." Stephen huffed, shifting so he was laying his head of Wong's shoulder. Tony sent him a scandalized look as Stephen laughed, his voice slightly hoarse. "I have Wong cuddles now."

Wong laughed. "Yes, yes you do. And you got Tony cuddles as well."

"And now I have both." Tony smiled and draped himself across Stephen, mindful of his hands.

"Oof--" Wong groaned at the extra weight. Stephen just chuckled at his husband and boyfriends antics, cuddling closer to the warm heat of his husband and closing his eyes.

"I love you two..." Stephen muttered, feeling himself close to dozing off. His Stephen sandwich was actually quite warm.

Tony and Wong looked at each other and both kissed Stephen's graying temples at the same time. "We love you, too." They echoed in perfect sync.

"Creepy." Stephen muttered jokingly.

Tony laughed. "You love it."

"Mm. I do. Tired now." Stephen returned, barely able to fight the heaviness of his eyes lids.

"Okay. Sleep, and we'll be right here when you wake up." Wong reassured while Tony rubbed at Stephen's head.

"Thank you for taking care of me..." Stephen whispered.

"Anything for you. We love you." Tony whispered back.

"Love you too."

It still hurt, his nose was still clogged and his body still sore, but for the first time that day, Stephen fell asleep peacefully, cocooned by his lovers.

He really did have the best husband and boyfriend a man could ask for.

#fluff #sickening fluff #sickfic #sick Stephen strange #aghajg mah heart #they're so cute #idrk how to end this #but domestic fluff #soft Stephen strange #soft Wong #soft Tony stark

2 notes · View notes

lailyn · 2 years

Text

#whumptober2022 #no.21 #coughing up blood #doctor strange #art #froststrange #loki/stephen strange #strangefrost #doctor strange art #blood #sick stephen strange #my art

16 notes · View notes

strangesickness · 2 months

Text

there are so many options for absolute comedy from eddie seeing richie again for the first time in 27 years. like theres so many options. these bitches are gay.

"FUCK! i'm gay. how the HELL

did i forget i was gay?"

is humiliated to realize that the comedian he's been a big fan of for years is RICHIE TOZIER his asshole childhood friend, and not in fact a cool celebrity he will never interact with

remembers some sort of humiliating moment of childhood pining and has to physically lean against something so he doesn't collapse in a puddle of embarrassment.

"i can't believe richie isn't even funny anymore what the fuck" (he is deeply relieved when richie says he doesn't write his own material)

"i've been carrying a torch for this man for well over half my life. that is humiliating. i wonder if i can get away with killing us both."

(out loud) "i need a divorce. immediately."

his brain immediately short circuits and he yells "LETS TAKE OUR SHIRTS OFF AND KISS!"

the horror of the situation slowly dawns on eddie as he realizes that the nameless man from his brief and guilty fantasies does in fact have a name and that name is richie tozier

looks over at mike, completely betrayed that he didn't warn him that he was deeply in love with one of the people who would be showing up soon.

#eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #reddie #it chapter two #it stephen king #posts afflicted with a strange sickness #it 2019

206 notes · View notes

random-writer-4884 · 1 year

Text

Not A Robot (Tony Stark X Stephen Strange)

Not A Robot

Tony Stark x Stephen Strange

Description: After the battle against Thanos, Tony Stark started avoiding Dr. Strange. The Magician would try for months until eventually, he gives up. However, when Iron Man shows up in a battle without a word spoken, Stephen follows him back to his house

Warnings: None

AO3 Link

Stephen Strange was a doctor, a damn good doctor, and he would remind everyone that while he was not practicing he was still a doctor. One thing he could never seem to remember, however, was his lack of bedside manor. After Thanos had been defeated, Tony had barely been seen. Any time the magician had gone to visit Tony, FRIDAY had merely dismissed him with a ‘Tony is not in the building’ and ‘I am not permitted to tell you Tony’s location’. This made Stephen upset, but he merely left each time.

After one month of no contact, Stephen stopped leaving voice mails.

After two months of no contact, Stephen stopped calling.

After three months of no contact, Stephen’s texts became shortened.

After four months?

Well, Stephen stopped texting.

After six months?

Stephen stopped portaling to Tony’s house all together.

In a year? Well, when Stephen talked to Tony again, it wasn’t under ideal circumstances.

Another invasion. Stephen would say that he and the hero’s helping him had it under control. Apparently Tony Stark didn’t think that that was the case.

The Ironman armor came flying in, in all its red and gold glory. Shooting and flying with precision. The battle finished quickly, and Ironman hadn’t said a word since he arrived. Stephen called out to Tony, but was met with only silence. At the end of the battle the suit nodded once in Stephen’s general direction before shooting towards the sky and away from the remnants of the battle.

Mumbling under his breath, Stephen and his cloak went on an immediate chase. Every time the armor sped up, Stephen portaled closer. He yelled at Tony to stop and talk to him and was only met with silence and an increase of repulser speed. This continued for a while, Stephen guessed a minimum of 30 minutes, before the suit slowed down at the Stark residence.

As the suit came to a landing, Strange followed suit allowing the cloak to float off of his shoulders.

“Leave.” Said the suit, though it wasn’t Tony's voice.

“God Damn it Tony, you’ve refused to talk to me for months! I spent so long trying to find you and you’ve straight up ignored me!” Strange reached forward and grabbed the shoulder of the suit. “For Fucks sake, you’ve barely talked to me in technically over 5 years! You’ve made every effort to not talk to me since Thanos and I don’t know why! So just fucking tell me and I can leave you alone!”

Slowly the suit turned to him and spoke, this time in Tony’s now raspy voice “Because no one wants to talk to a machine, Strange.” Both men were silent for a moment at what Tony said.

“Tony, you aren't a machine. A man in a glorified suit of armor? Sure. A machine? No.” Strange’s face was full of confusion as he spoke. As he finished, The suit began to peel back, nanotech leaving its station and revealing Tony.

Stephen tried to hide his shock at the changes in the man in front of him. His right arm was entirely gone, replaced by machinery. Half of his face was deeply scarred. Tony’s eyes were sad, and looked filled with grief. “Morgan is scared of me. She refuses to be in the same room as me unless I have my face coated in makeup or am in my armor.”

Tony paused for a moment, taking a deep breath “Pepper is filing for divorce since Morgan won’t go near me. She says that it’s easier this way and I can’t keep fighting her. No one wants a machine. ‘Tony Stark has no heart’ as the saying went.” He dramatically flared his right hand for his final sentence, his mechanical hand remaining unmoving at his side.

Taking a moment to take in what was said, Stephen stepped forward and took Tony’s mechanical hand. With one hand he held it by the palm, and the other he trailed along the intricate metal. It moved almost exactly like flesh and blood, a marvel in prosthetic technology. “I think it's beautiful.” He whispered. “Both the mechanics and you.”

Tony didn’t say anything, only watching Stephen’s hands trail along the metal arm. “I’m sorry that Pepper refuses to see that, and that Morgan is too young to understand that appearances mean nothing.” Tony still kept his eyes on Strange’s hands, watching their slow, shaking movements.

Avoiding himself for a moment, Tony noticed the yellow gloves the Doctor wore. “Strange, why do you wear those gloves?”

“Same reason you’re hiding from the world. My hand’s aren’t ‘pretty’ like the world expects of a doctor.” Carefully, he let go of Tony’s mechanical hand, and carefully pulled the gloves off of his hands. Something he hadn’t done in front of another in a while.

This time, Tony reached out and took hold of Stephen’s hands. Stephen flinched at the contact, and closed his eyes at the strange and slightly painful feeling of his hands being touched. Tony used his flesh hand to run his fingers along the scarring that lined the doctor's skin, a discolored pink. “How?” was all Tony said almost mesmerized by the lines.

“I was an arrogant asshole who got in a car wreck and lost the one thing that let me be so cruel. My hands. I underwent 8 different treatments, spending all of my money and pushing away the one person who still cared about me. After that I found the ancient one and learned the mystic arts…” he paused for a moment “blah blah blah, all that boring reform-ity bullshit people love to gloat about.”

Tony began to laugh a little bit, leaving Stephen to smile quietly. “All of our scars are different Tony. I know they’re painful, emotionally and perhaps even physically. You need to remember though, your scars are proof that you survived.” He let his laughter die down and smiled.

“Now!” started Stephen “Lets get you inside, and I’ll let you in on a little secret!” Tony perked up at that.

“The magic man has a secret? I wonder what it could be!” He teased, letting Stephen take his hand again and begin leading him into the house.

“Well, I make a mean batch of cookies. My sister loved them! She would bug me almost every day asking for a new batch of cookies!” The two of them laughed at the story as they walked inside, and soon after cookies could be smelt baking in the oven.

#ironstrange #tony stark #anthony edward stark #dr stephen strange #tony stark x stephen strange #stephen strange #dr strange #doctor strange #iron man #hurt/comfort #post endgame #cannon divergent #tony survived endgame #fanfic #fanfiction #i've been sick a lot #i'm gonna try to write more #oneshot #disabled tony stark

35 notes · View notes

themculibrary · 2 years

Text

Ironstrange + Peter Sickfics Masterlists

A Strange Diet (ao3) - mayaaminmin G, 1k

Summary: Stephen becomes very sick after a date with Tony and Wong discovers that he was poisoned. Wong confronts Tony.

Daycare Fever (ao3) - professional_benaddict, Teddy1008 M, 2k

Summary: It was playtime at daycare, which is the best time. Only downside was that Peter was feeling sick, really sick. Luckily, Daddy Tony comes to pick him up and bring him to Daddy Stephen for a check up.

Don't Say It (ao3) - InkDippedFingertips G, 1k

Summary: Stephen is sick and Tony is exasperated.

Hunny Bunnies and Tissue (ao3) - olliebrobeck G, 1k

Summary: "Oh, hunny-bunny, what's wrong?"

Stephen is a pouting, feverish mess after a mission to another dimension, and craves care from his boyfriend.

I Think He Knows (ao3) - twenty3 T, 7k

Summary: “You’re going to be fine,” he repeated. “But I need to give you something that’s going to make you even sicker. Your body needs to purge the spores, so you’re going to get sick to your stomach. A lot. It’s going to get worse before it gets better, but I swear to you, it’s going to get better. Do you understand?”

All Tony really understood was he was sick, and Stephen was going to help him.

He didn’t really need to know anything else.

“I trust you,” Tony replied.

Tony gets sick after a mission. Stephen takes care of him. Rhodey notices a few things.

Lucky (ao3) - escapemyshadow N/R, 1k

Summary: It have been such a long time since they have been out for a date. Stephen would not let his sickness be the obstacle and Tony was doing his best to make Stephen feels better.

Of Rescues and Rashes (ao3) - Codee21 T, 2k

Summary: When Tony Stark-Strange doesn’t come home from an Avengers meeting one day, Stephen gets worried and decides to go after him.

Of course, what would a rescue mission be without a screaming toddler?

Shut Up (ao3) - InkDippedFingertips G, 1k

Summary: Tony is sick and Stephen had his own way of handling him.

Sick Little Boy (ao3) - professional_benaddict T, 3k

Summary: It is the weekend, which means time for Tony and Peter to play. But, little Peter falls ill and cannot play like normal, which upsets him. Daddy Tony hates seeing his boy upset, so he comes up with an idea and invites Uncle Stephen over for a house call. After all, Daddies know best and so do doctors.

Side Effects (ao3) - Bravehardt, Foxglove_Fiction M, 9k

Summary: Tony responds to an unexpected summons to aid the sorcerer duo in containing an unruly botanical beast Stephen was researching. The beast is subdued but not before it disperses a defensive spore into the air of the sanctum. Only Stephen is unfortunate enough to inhale the toxin and while Wong assures it's nothing serious, things still manage to go awry from there.

Spiders and the Common Cold (ao3) - shiverfawkes N/R, 2k

Summary: Peter is sick

stay sick; don't get well (ao3) - StrangerInAStrangeLand G, 3k

Summary: After a particularly long two weeks of constant battling, a battered, bruised, feverish Stephen walks into a lonely diner at midnight where the only people inside are him, a faceless waiter, and an understandably worried Tony Stark.

The Obligatory Sickfic: Dr Strange and Dr Stark (ao3) - Chiroptach G, 1k

Summary: When Stephen gets sick Tony takes it upon himself to heal the doctor.

The Sickfic Saga (ao3) - Chiroptach G, 1k

Summary: Whenever Peter doesn't feel well his dads smother him in attention and threat him like he's dying, so why can't they just take care of themselves?

urgent matters only (ao3) - humanveil T, 1k

Summary: “The internet says he’s dying,” Peter says, glancing at his phone screen and skimming the search results. “Something about ca—”

“I’m not dying,” Tony interjects, cutting Peter off before he can finish. “It’s just a headache.” He sits up, sends a glare toward the kid. “This is why you’re banned from Google.”

#themculibrary #ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #peter parker #sick!peter #sick!tony #sick!stephen #sickfic #sickfic masterlist #masterlists

40 notes · View notes

gayashouses · 2 years

Text

I Think I Need A Doctor

Chapter: 7/?

Summary: Reader has chronic illnesses and stumbles upon the sanctum, is henceforth tended to by a doctor that’s been missing the more doctoral part of his nature. (In this chapter - breakfast with Wong, bookclub, and black holes.)

Warnings: None really, except sickness? Reader has migraines and unspecified chronic illness, more prevalent in later chapters though.

Word count: 2.2k (this chapter, total work approx 24k, ongoing)

Wong is much busier than Strange but makes time to have breakfast with you – you make sure you appreciate it. He has ‘higher duties’ as the Sorcerer Supreme, whatever that could possibly mean, though it soundsrealistic and important and… ambiguous. You secretly think he like you more, because you’re quieter. Perhaps more his pace.

He likes cooking, though doesn’t make much time to do it with all that regularly goes on in the sanctum. You think it’s also easier for him to cook when he’s cooking for others. For all that he corrals you into a chair in the kitchen and berates you for not eating well, says that that’s why you’re fainting, says that’s why you look gaunt. You’re not sure that all this is true. Secretly, you think he wants the excuse to cook as much as he wants the excuse to care. He makes huffing tutting noises while tending to a sizzling pan that smells… heavenly. And stalwartly refuses to make you black tea. He serves you a small cup of rice tea, and then serves a pot of green tea. There’s a bowl of strawberries you pick at while he cooks and tuts. It warms you to have someone fuss over you.

He may have an agenda to feed you, but you still have an agenda to needle him on information about Strange. The man can be so… odd. You’re not exactly sure how to go about it, and tact may not be your strong suit so you just… ask.

“I was wondering…”

“Mm?” Wong hums, but the tone has an edge of warning. He already knows what’s coming.

“Why is Strange… so… proud?” That’s not exactly what you wanted to ask. But there. That’s a start.

Wong doesn’t answer you but keeps cooking. Bacon sizzling as he cracks an egg into the pan.

“It’s only that, sometimes he’s lovely and we get on so well but then… then I get the feeling that something shifts, and I want to yell at him, or he yells at me. It’s like he doesn’t respect me. For no reason, it seems.”

Wong hums again, moving about the kitchen. You can’t see his face so you munch on another strawberry, setting the greens to the side of your plate waiting for an explanation.

“Maybe it’s less a matter of respect than it is one of paying attention to the matter at hand.”

“What do you mean?”

“You two are busily comparing egos and knowledge rather than putting your knowledge together. You may know yourself better than he does, but he also knows other things better than you. Both can be true without being false. Neither of you needs to be better than the other.”

You hide your flushed face in your tea.

And fuck, of course you should know this, and do, on some basic level, but Strange aggravates you. Despite the softening moment you shared last night where you shared your wounds and grievances – whatever that was. You’re still two people butting heads, trying to out-do each other. All the knowledge and training in the world can’t make a person act rationally if they don’t remember to. How long has it been since you’ve studied psychology? All of this is basic, obvious. You’re being obtuse, really. Not that Strange isn’t also.

You’re grateful Wong lives with Strange and must see this man through many moods. Strange must be awfully moody.

“So how do I approach him? What do I do? Give me the Doctor Strange masterclass.”

“I don’t want to be involved.” Wong slides bacon, eggs, and cooked tomatoes from the pan onto your plate.

“But you can help! It’ll make… all of this easier.” You gesture vaguely to the household.

“You’re both adults. You’re capable of conversation.” He shakes this head giving you toast, avocado.

Your mouth is salivating, and you stretch, ready for a hearty meal. “Clearly not.”

“Only if you stop being so prideful.” That’s a keen sting. You remember your mother telling you just the same. That you had a prideful streak. It’s one of the last things she told you.

You frown at Wong and cut into a bursting tomato, piercing a forkful of assorted breakfast and shoving it into your mouth.

“Have you chosen a book yet?”

Wong had set aside a small pile of books for you; he’d left three on your nightstand. All on different paths of astronomy. It’s not a vein of interest you’d considered before, but being thrust into this world, it’s the closest thing to magic you were willing to venture into without being fully immersed, while still talking to these men on topics of their field. You do want to know more; you know you can’t stay completely ignorant to what’s going on while living in the middle of it all, but you’re certainly not going to dip into magical knowledge. It’s all… too much too quick, and migraines are still far too prevalent to push yourself too much. Astronomy is practical and suits you just fine. It has plenty of real-world application. Surely. Somewhere.

You tell Wong which of the three you’ve picked – one on black holes. You figure you’ll stick to the area you’ve started with, with the odd book you picked off the shelf at random previously. Wong has let you keep that book too. It’s in your room and you’ll keep it until you can properly understand it. But for now, another.

Here is a book more generally on black holes. You slide it across the table. “Here’s the lucky winner.”

“Ah!” Wong exclaims. “Ombert's Treatise. A good one, your interest has been piqued?”

“In black holes? I suppose. I thought I’d try to understand one subject at a time.” You’re cautious that he may be reading too far into it – is there a way to read into it? You greatly dislike being psychoanalysed against your will. It’s only black holes for goodness’ sake.

“Have you read much?” He asks.

“Not really. Just the introduction and a few pages. It’s… intimidating though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, to think a black hole can eat anything at all.”

“Eat? What an interesting perspective. They suck in all things and no things escape, certainly.”

“Inescapable?”

“And it’s inevitable.”

“Oh.”

“If a star is large enough and its mass is too, when it dies - black hole.”

“But where does it go? Where does the black hole lead to?”

“I don’t know why you expect me to know.”

“You have magic, don’t you?”

Wong blinks. “I would never go to the edge of the universe or into a black hole. There are dangerous uses of magic. If I went there, there’s no saying whether I’d come back. You’re also assuming that I have the capability of going to the edge of the universe.”

“Do you?”

He frowns. “I haven’t tried. And I’m not going to. That’s very far, and ever-expanding.”

“You couldn’t just check?”

“Check? You want me to check the farthest reach of the unknown universe, further than the furthest star, the newest realms? Check in the pocket of a black hole to see if I’m torn apart like string and ribbons? It’s good to heed the knowledge of others. There are scientists who say it’s deadly in a black hole – I believe them because I’m not a scientist!”

“No, I’d never ask you to! I’m… wondering if you have before. I don’t know the extent of your magic!”

“Ah,” Wong tuts. You have the inescapable feeling that for some reason he might rap your knuckles. “You and Strange. Your ambition is too high; you’re too questioning. You need to learn that satisfaction isn’t realistic.”

“I’m not after satisfaction, I’m only… curious.”

“Yet still, you ask.”

You shrug. “I suppose. It can’t hurt. I wouldn’t know if I didn’t ask.”

Wong tuts again and has another go at his breakfast.

It’s delicious and wholesome, fulling and the best meal you’ve had in… months. You’re thankful he likes to cook, and wanted to. You’re happy for him to pick at you every now and then if it means you’ll get a good meal. You might just have to sneak black tea, and see if you can get Strange to go out with you for a coffee.

There’s a strange thought. Why can’t you go out for one by yourself? It’s not like New York is unknown to you. But… it would be nice to go and have an outing with him. And coffee. Perhaps without portals this time. You try to hide your smile in your eating. What is happening?

“So, Strange has had questions like that? He’s wanted to go to the edge of the universe?”

“He had many questions when he first arrived. He has a reaching mind. His curiosity has only grown.”

“That’s pretty understandable. I mean, with all magic at your fingertips, why wouldn’t you want to know how far it goes?”

Wong makes a noise again. This time somewhat like a huff.

You clear your throat. “Thank you for breakfast. And thank you for having me here by the way. I’m not sure if I’ve said it before.”

“Strange was the one who wanted you here.”

You swallow. “You didn’t at all?”

“I don’t believe in mixing work. You’re a liability.”

You go cold, which feels odd after the hot breakfast, now sitting heavy in your gut. “You don’t like me?”

“Whether or not I like someone isn’t part of the matter. It’s dangerous to have you here. Between our responsibilities, his as Master of the Sanctum and my own as the Sorcerer Supreme, it can be troubling to have extraneous… circumstances.”

“And I’m circumstances? I mean I’m… Do you think I’m getting underfoot?”

“You’re an unknown variable, and that can be dangerous. Strange likes to avoid considering what’s dangerous and go with his desires. We need to be responsible for what we already have and have sworn to protect.”

“Do you want me to leave? Are you,” You clear your throat, “Are you saying I’m putting this at risk?”

Wong stares at you a long moment. “I don’t want him to put you at risk. Strange can forget that he’s not all-powerful; he thinks far too much with his head and doesn’t act with his hands.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he juggles too many balls or spins too many plates at once, and does so because he’s intelligent he thinks he can. Sometimes he can spin a great many, but I’m afraid he may spin one plate too many, and that plate might be you.”

“Well.” You feel incredibly awkward in that moment but can’t help but fight a smile. “You’re here too, right? You spin some things too?”

“No. If he’s taken you on as his ward, then you are not my responsibility. I know my capacity.”

Your smile fades. “Oh.”

“I enjoy your company, and I won’t say you’re not welcome, but if something were to happen to you as a result of you staying here… it’s not my responsibility. This isn’t a safe place to live. This isn’t a hostel.”

You pull Strange’s hoodie tighter around you. “I know that. I’m not treating it like one. I’m… I don’t have anywhere else to be – not really.”

“And that’s okay.” Wong pats his hand on the table reassuringly. “But you need to know. Strange said he will care for you here, that he will be a doctor – but it doesn’t mean that you will be safe. If anything, you are in more danger here than anywhere else.”

You nod a bit and shrug a bit. “Yeah, I mean… yeah. That’s okay. That’s alright with me. It is, really. I’m sure you think I’m ignorant, and I’m sure I am, but even if I’m in danger, I don’t… really have many options. I do want to be here, and I feel good here. I want to be here. If that’s okay.”

“It is. But you needed to know. Sooner or later, something is going to happen in the sanctum that will affect you.”

“What, like it’s inevitable?”

Wong lowers his head in thought.

“I sort of… need Strange at the moment. For all of him being a nuisance, and us annoying each other, and our… pride. And I like being around you too and thank you for taking care of me, just…” You swallow. Too many words are coming out and you feel that everything has already been said. You wish you had the knack that other people seem to where they say words that seem to be enough, but words seem to endlessly tumble out of you.

But you were being truthful. You need Strange. There’s nowhere else for you to go. You’ve found him, stumbled into him, you've been caught in his orbit, and there’s no other options – you can’t go back to the way you were living. There’s no other way for you to be living. He is inescapable. He is inevitable. He is your own, prideful black hole.

Here you are. Caught.

A/N: (First chapter link.) (AO3 Link.)

#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #doc tor strange fic #marvel x reader #itinad #sick fic #delilah writing #migraine #mcu #marvel fic #NeverKnewIWasADancer

35 notes · View notes